7:17pm

Here, in case you are wondering, is outside a very small, ordinary?looking fishing hut amongst the mud flats three hours from home. It sounds a long way, but not so far I wouldn't turn around and head back right now, if I could. Just forget this bad idea and start the weekend tomorrow. But I can't, because my car is parked? alright, bogged!? half an hour back along the track. And it's night fall.

For some reason I'm yet to find, I have finally given in to the persistent invites by Allan and Bess to go fishing on the weekend. I barely know Allan; and even though I get on well with Bess at work, you would hardly call us good friends. Worse, we have a long running feud of sorts about fishing. She is mad about it; while I have made my dislike of killing the poor helpless things abundantly clear. It's all in good humour? well at least I think it is. Bess will ask, "When are you coming to the fishing hut with us?" and I'll reply, "the week after you have been out to the cattle station with me." The banter then involves her countering that the old camp on the station is, by even the most flattering reports, pretty damn ordinary. To which I reply, "don't knock it 'til you try it." Still, she hasn't given in, and here I am.

At least I've had one bit of luck. I recognise Allan's ute parked beside the mangroves and know I have stumbled onto the right hut.

Walking around the side, I hear Bess's unmistakable voice, calling Dave. Dave? Who the fuck is Dave? I peer through a window of sorts covered in mosquito netting. The fire from a wood stove illuminates part of the hut. Bess is by the stove, tall and beautiful in a long shirt that just covers her butt. Now, I recognise Dave, local football star and presumably a friend of Allan's. He is in the shower in the corner of the room, butt naked and in full view of Bess? well he would be if she was to look away from whatever she is stirring on the stove.

Before I can decide what to do? turn away, make my entrance...something!? Dave turns off the shower and wanders over to grab a towel strewn on a sleeping bag. His fat cock is definitely 'semi', a fact that seems to bother him little as he vigorously towels himself dry before slipping on a pair of baggy shorts. He reaches into an old fridge and extracts a beer. With a deft twist of his huge hand, the top is off, and he takes a giant swig.

"I'll have some of that!" calls Bess.

As Dave strolls towards her, the outline of his swaying cock is clearly visible under the shorts. He stands right behind her and reaches over to take an exaggerated sniff of what's cooking.

Bess seems to ignore him, instead taking the beer from his hand and pouring a decent portion into the large pot on the stove.

"Hey!" he mocks, and tries to grab it back.

Bess laughs and brushes his hand aside, before helping herself to a quick sip.

Bess turns to him, grabbing both sides of his face before planting one of those killer kisses on him?you know, the deliberate, bet you wish you could get more of this kind.

They part laughingly, as if it is a game they have played many times before.

"Since you are so interested, you look after the stove while I take a shower before Charlie gets here," Bess orders.

"You know I'm a hopeless cook, " Dave argues.

"Just keep stirring it," Bess says as she leaves. "Not with this though," she adds, playfully slapping the bulge in his shorts that had obviously grown considerably.

* * * * * *

I haven't really told you everything about Bess. I think she is an enigma, a paradox, chameleon; whatever the word. Some days I think she is the most beautiful woman in the world. Other times I think Christiane Paul might have the edge. Some days she will wear a tight top to work, and her boobs take your breath away. Other days she will be in her field uniform and I don't know what I have been fussing about. Never has she shown any interest in me. Nor would I expect her to. I'm twice her age and she treats me so. I get my thrills helping her when I can with what plant to buy for the garden, or how to fix this or that. In return she reads my stories from time to time and says thanks for sharing them with her. I can't recall any physical contact with her. Not even a handshake when I got to tell her she had been hired. No one has a bad or a good story to tell about her.

So you can see, with the prospect of Bess taking a shower any minute now, I am in quite a state.

* * * * * *

Bess seems to fiddle forever with a bundle of clothes beside her sleeping bag. Then it happens. In an instant, the shirt is pulled over her head, to reveal a dark blue bikini underneath. I decide those breasts are worth the fuss after all. She takes a step towards the window I am peering through, and instintively I step back. But all she is doing is catching Dave's attention.

"How's it going over there, cook?" she asks.

Dave bleets a casual "not bad!" in her direction, and turns away.

He's got to be kidding!

Bess turns, dropping the bikini top as she goes. I catch a glimse of the side of a heaving breast and skip a breath or three. Her bare back is a wonder soon forgotten when she pulls down the bottoms to reveal one of those arses that never quite hide it all.

Heaven! I've just seen heaven!

The two steps she takes to enter the shower are directly away from me. But just when I feel all is lost, she reaches around for the taps and there it is: a proud dark bush with only the bikini lines under control. Just as I had imagined!

* * * * * * *

"Hey you! What the fuck are you doing?"

Allan's booming voice startles me, and without thinking, I crouch down into the scant cover of the bushes below the window sill. He appears from behind the hut, and bellows through the window closest to the stove: "Are you turning into a fucking housewife now?"

I can't believe my luck! How could he not see me? Unable to move, my heart pounding, I hear Dave retort: "Someone's gotta look after things while you are away."

"I bet you've been looking after more than just the food too!" Allan challenges, entering the hut. "No wonder it's so friggin' dark in here!"

Moments later, the hut is lit up by the flickering flame of a kerosene lamp. The sound of footsteps and a rustling of clothes follows.

"Hey, honey!" I hear Bess say.

I slowly raise myself to peer through the window. Allan has joined her in the shower. His hands are around her, lifting her large breasts high towards her face.

"Has Dave been looked after these while I was out?" he teases. 'Or this?" One hand drops to probe that dark bush.

"Afraid you missed out on watching?" Bess counters. She makes no attempt to remove his hand.

"So is that a yes?"

"Don't worry. If Charlie wasn't coming, we could do it again, just for you."

"Bit late for him to get here now, don't you think? I knew he wouldn't come anyway."

"He'll be here," Bess replies.

"No chance."

'"How can you be so certain? You don't even know him."

'That's right, I don't. But I'm prepared to bet you, if you are game."

"You know I don't bet."

"What's up? Not so sure about your old mate after all?"

"I'm so sure, I don't want to take your money."

"Who said anything about money?"

At this point, Bess breaks clear. In an instant, Allan grabs her arm and drags her back to the shower space.

"We haven't finished this yet," he says.

"Well, get on with it. He'll be here any minute."

"Ok then. Bet me. If he doesn't turn up in the next hour, I win. And you have to do Dave while I watch."

"And if he does?"

"Obviously with him here, you don't have to do Dave."

"So you want to have the say, whether I win or lose?"

"You make the call if you like."

Bess thinks a while.

''OK, "she says defiantly." If Charlie doesn't turn up here in the next hour, I'll do it."

"Plenty of time," mumbles Bess, barely lifting her eyes from the book she is reading.

Put yourself in my position for a moment. You try hiding outside this window in the dark, with sandflies and mosquitoes intent on making a meal of you. Then try doing it when you are allergic to insect bites. To see it out for the next half hour would condemn her to fucking Dave, while Allan watches. And you watch.

To show up now would deliver the prospect of sex with the girl of your dreams. While those two losers watch. It's a decision that should not take half an hour. But for some reason......

* * * * * * * *

"7:17! You know what that means, Bess" calls an expectant Allan.

"Guess I've just lost," she says, without looking up.

Dave wanders over, takes hold of her shorts at the waist, and tugs. Bess barely lifts her hips, but it is enough to let the shorts slip over them. Dave is able to pull them all the way down, and toss them aside. Nonchalantly Bess lets her legs fall back onto the sofa, and returns to her book.

Her apparent lack of interest doesn't faze Dave. Unperturbed, he proceeds to step out of his shorts. His fat cock is rearing to go. He grabs hold of one of Bess's legs, and pulls her sideways until she is just on the edge of the sofa. This allows him to stand between her legs. He grabs his cock, and guides it to her pussy. Without ceremony, he slams it in, hard enough that the sofa rocks and the book falls from Bess's hand. Without a word, Bess reaches over to retrieve it, and resumes reading. Again he slams her hard. And again. Once more. Again. And again, getting faster and faster. Bess turns a page. Dave ploughs on, his heavy breathing turning into grunts, his grunts into mumbles about how fucking tight her pussy is and how he is going to come. He reaches for his cock. For the first time she moves. Her long leg hooks out, and drags his arse back to her, locking the fat cock in her. And like that, with cum gushing into her, she turns her head towards a disbelieving Allan.

* * * * * * *

A long time after, Allan is snoring loudly on the sofa. Dave is standing at my window, peering out into the darkness, when Bess wanders over to him. He turns sideways to face her, and I breathe a little easier. A lot of small talk follows, and I see her finger idly tracing the front of his shorts. The response becomes obvious, not that she seems to notice. She steps back, never taking her eyes from him, and nonchantly undoes most of the buttons on her shirt. Eyes fixed, she peels it off her shoulders, then over her arms, until it falls around her waist. The stare continues, until he succumbs, lowering his eyes to take in the view of her bare breasts.

"Awesome!" he mutters.

"It's not like you've never seen them before."

"But it seems like I'm seeing them for the first time."

"That's how tonight should have been," she says.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean sex should have been like this."

"But it would never have happened."

"You think?"

"Well, we've been coming here for over a year, and nothing has happened."

"That doesn't mean it was out of the question," she counters. "Under the right circumstances."

"So why did you agree to the bet?"

"Because Allan is always at me about who I've slept with. How big were they? Any women? About how he'd like to see me with someone else."

"So either way, he was going to get his wish tonight."

"And then get over it," Bess adds.

"So what now?" Dave asks.

I watch breathlessly as Bess reaches down.

"Right now, I want to feel this in my hand."

"And?"

"And both of us to remember tonight for this moment."

They hug awhile, right in front of me, and I want to shout out at them to stop.

Then Dave asks," Would you really have done it with Charlie?"

Bess looks at him with disappointment in her eyes.

"I would have, but I didn't want to. Not like this anyway."

"So he's better off for not turning up?"

"I suppose so, if he has a really good reason for letting me down."

Five minutes later, covered in mud and bites, I am ready to knock on the door of the hut, and blame the late arrival on my misadventure back along the road.

This was a little over a month ago. I've got some leave due soon, when I hope to write a part 2 about what happened after I arrived. Thank's for reading!